


7; dare

by ralphstatortots



Series: george and alex [7]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, uwu.....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 03:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17015130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralphstatortots/pseuds/ralphstatortots
Summary: “I forfeit. Gimme a dare.” He gives in, facing Will and seeing a wide grin spread on his friend’s face.





	7; dare

**Author's Note:**

> soz i havent updated in like. years, no internet to edit and upload and my data ran out shortly after i updated the other works collection and my spotify premium expired so fuck blue lives lol
> 
> p.s. thx for 1k+ fellas, i love everybody who’s ever read a word of this and love u forevermore xx if u have any requests for anything…..uwu hmu
> 
>  
> 
> my tumblr: presidentfuckboy.tumblr.com
> 
> my wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/presidentfuckboy

Fuck drinking. Seriously, _fuck_ alcohol and its inebriate influence. Drinking can either mean a really good night, or a forgetful one where everybody but him remembers the embarrassing things he did.

George can already tell which type of night it was going to be.

Will is off his tits by midnight, and off-his-tits Will is _not_ a friendly person when it comes to coherent and safe ideas he can plague upon his friends. It’s always “Fuck off, I’m telling your mam you shag guinea pigs,” this and “I’m gonna buy a taser for our next collab,” that, and while it’s usually funny to _witness_ , it’s never been pleasant for George to experience any of it firsthand. Thankfully, Will doesn’t get that drunk to seriously hurt anybody and usually forgets anything he said a few hours later. (And there’s still been no sign of a taser, _yet_ , despite it being a repeated statement every time they drink.)

But tonight, the man seems relentless on torturing George for no damn reason. He’d rather drink alone in his room and laugh at the dumb-as-dirt people on Twitter – though he might make the exception of somebody joining him. Nobody specific, he swears.

So far, Will has got him to sniff the milk in the fridge (which finally made George realise it should’ve been thrown out ages ago), mixed lager and tequila for him to drink, and purposely spilt some weird smelling dip on his shirt before George went downstairs to get their food delivery.

And now Will, and most of their friends they’ve invited over, have all agreed to play spin the bottle. Like they’re in Year 9 and playing it so they can kiss their crush.

Initially, it had been an instant no to take part, but somebody suggested that if they didn’t want to kiss somebody, they could instead do a forfeit dare. The perfect opportunity to get back at Will for all those times he’d made George do things under the guise of a bet that wasn’t winnable.

Except as soon as they were all seated in a slightly wonky circle, George realised that meant _Alex_ was playing. It wouldn’t be a problem in itself, if George didn’t have probably the biggest crush possible on his flatmate. _Year 11_ level crush, the type that lasts months because you realised how hot they are and you almost spend 24/7 with them.

And now George is stuck between a rock and a hard place. On his turn, he spun the bottle on one of their friends’ girlfriend – who would be a more than awkward person to kiss when he doesn’t even _know_ her – and Will has been giving him an evil look since they started playing. Kiss a random girl or face whatever diabolical plan his drunk twat of a friend has got for him?

“I forfeit. Gimme a dare.” He gives in, facing Will and seeing a wide grin spread on his friend’s face.

Will shrugs and makes his way over to Alex, crouching with a slight wobble to whisper in the boy’s ear. When a pink flush settles on his cheeks – which is a good look for him, George thinks – and he starts looking at George weirdly, he realises what’s happened. _Absolute twat._

Alex stands and crosses through the circle and tugs on George's hood. ”C’mon. I'll tell you the dare in the bathroom.”

Will cackles as they stand and head for the bathroom in the hallway. ”I’m fed up of you two eye-shaggin’ each other and not doin’ anything about it! Just go in there and snog already!” 

George feels heat creep onto his face and groans. It's _exactly_ what he thought was happening, and while he doesn't _mind_ the thought of making out with Alex, being a bit drunk is not the best time to be confessing his undying love for the boy, or something along those lines.

He regrets ever drunkenly telling Will that he wants to shag Alex rotten and kiss him until George can't feel his lips and, if God allows such a thing, _hold his hand_ and _fall asleep knowing Alex is going to be right there when he wakes up_ and all that shit. He knew it would backfire one day. 

”So that's the dare?” George asks when the bathroom door is shut. ”To just,” he does a weird gesture with his hands, ”snog or whatever?”

”Er, Will kept it a bit more...PG family friendly when he shouted that.” Alex laughs nervously and fiddles with his hands. ”I, um...he said your dare is to let me, uh…” He laughs again, more out of lack of words than a bad joke, and flushes pink again. _Definitely_ a good look for him.

”To let you…?” George repeats. He can guess what kind of lines this is going on, but he doesn't want to assume. It could be a weird bath water dare or something. _Yeah, right. Will’s probably dared you to give him a blowie,_ George thinks. It's the stupid drunk part of his brain filling in the blanks, but it makes a warmth travel down his chest anyway.

”To, um...y’know,” Alex makes a weird motion with a loosely-curled fist. Close enough with the guess of a blowie. ”Don’t make me say it, mate.” He mumbles into his hands now wiping over his face. 

”Can’t say I know what the hell you're talking about, so you're probably gonna have to.” George says. He feels sadistic and giddy at the same time; he feels wrong for enjoying seeing Alex squirm a little under his gaze and making him say what the dare is, – when it’s more than obvious now – but some weird part of George just wants to hear it.

”Will said your dare is t’let me wank you off.” Alex rushes out and the pink on his cheeks deepen to crimson. He looks almost distraught, fidgeting under the pressure and only looking at George through his eyelashes. ”B-But I don't have to! He's just, he's bein’ all weird and thinkin’ he's funny, but we can just pretend I did it.” 

”No, it's-it’s fine, we, uh. It's a dare, innit? It's a forfeit dare, I have t’ do it.” George says. His brain feels like it's short-circuiting, like the bathroom is filled with a humid steam and its frying any stable thought process he could possibly have. ”Unless you don't want to, that’s, y’know, that’s fine too.” He coughs awkwardly.

Alex sighs and sits on the lid of the toilet. ”It’s, erm. No, we can. Like you said, it’s a forfeit dare – y’can’t back out of something you already backed out of, right?” His voice pitches in questioning. He's looking at George strangely, like a mixture of hesitation and nervousness.

”Yeah, yeah.” George nods in agreement. It doesn't feel like Alex _doesn’t_ want to fulfill the dare, but there's something he's obviously not saying. ”Y’sure?”

Alex nods and exhales deeply. ”Yeah, ’m sure. Plus it'll make Will look like a twat, right? If we did the dare.” He awkwardly tacks onto the end.

George hums and grins sheepishly; he can feel a familiar feeling swimming in his stomach, which happens occasionally when he's around the other man. ”We should probably…?” He says and does another unrecognisable gesture. He feels a little light headed and breathless.

”Oh, right. Yeah, we probably should, uh, get going with that dare, huh.” Alex smiles nervously and fiddles with his fingers again. ”How do you-?” 

”Floor?” George rushes out in a strained breath. He should feel a bit embarrassed for cutting Alex off like that, – it makes him sound _eager_ , for Christ sake – but he's about thirty seconds away from being jerked off by somebody he's absolutely smitten with and he can't think of anything but that now. ”I mean, we bought a nice mat, so what's the point in not using it?” He cringes a little at his reply – _nice one, you mong._

Alex giggles lightly and nods, slipping from his seat and kneels on the floor. ”It _is_ a very soft mat. Good for m’knees.” 

George knows it’s a joke, but Jesus, when or why is Alex going to be on his knees in the damn bathroom? He's a little drunk and overthinking things and also feels a bit high off seeing the other boy on his knees in front of him.

He follows suit and sits cross-legged on the floor, leaving space for Alex to kneel on the mat. ”So do I just…? Y’know, get it out?” George isn't hard yet, working on maybe a half-chub right now, embarrassingly enough. 

”Well, if I'm gonna be wankin’ you off, then we might as well cross some other lines, right?” Alex says. ”If you want, we could...I dunno, kiss? Or something?” 

George makes a strange noise that gets stuck in his throat and plays it off with a cough.

”Yeah, we can. C’mere, mister.” He says in a purposely funny voice to make this whole situation feel a little less awkward. 

It works and Alex laughs before he leans in closer to George and kisses him. George can feel the hints of a withering smile against him, slightly chapped lips pressed gently against his own and a soft exhale against his cheek.

They both pull back a few mere centimetres George can see something new in the other’s eyes, something wanting and hungry that Alex is probably seeing mirrored in his own. He uncrosses his legs and stretches them out to leave an inviting space between them, leaning against the door behind him and allowing Alex to shuffle into him.

Alex kisses him deeper this time; he turns his head and George feels the ghost of teeth on his lower lip, eyelashes brushing against his cheek, a hand wandering gently down his arm. It's simultaneously all too much and too little, and George isn't sure whether he should mentally curse or thank Will just yet.

Alex pulls back and whispers against his lips. ”Is it okay to touch you?” He asks and it makes George inhale sharply with a nod before kissing the boy again.

George lets himself indulge in the pressure of chapped lips and wandering touches making their way downwards, then brings a hand up to cup Alex’s jaw. He bites gently on the other’s lip and takes opportunity in the gasp he’s given to lick across it. He lets Alex kiss him warmer, lazily, and relishes in the soft hums Alex gives. He tastes of honey JD.

A hand fiddles with the zip of his jeans, the button already undone some time ago, and the sound of the metal teeth send a sharp jolt through George. 

He’s sat in the bathroom kissing his crush (he’s such a Year 9) with a boner and literally about to get a handie from said crush. If George had known this would happen earlier, he’d probably cry and tell everybody to fuck off.

But instead, here he is.

Alex has pulled back from kissing to concentrate on getting George’s jeans down enough, and making quick work of it too. His lips are slightly parted, darkened and pink like his cheeks, and George would kiss him again if it weren’t for the fingers suddenly tracing above the hem of his boxers and sneaking their way beneath.

“Oh shit,” George says with a breathless, light laugh. He hears Alex hide a laugh under his breath and a hand curls around his cock. It’s slightly cold and it makes him flinch, but Alex kisses him again softly with a murmur of apology.

With a tug of his boxers to pull them down too, his dick is out, and George feels a lot more nervous than he did before. Alex is kind of _staring_ , which George would jokingly say is rude of him if he weren’t staring at his _cock_. But then his hand finds its way back to its previous place and George can’t find it in him to make any sort of joking comment. 

Besides, George is too busy thinking of how fucked he is. He’s never boasted the size of his cock and to be fair, it’s not like he’s absolutely massive anyway – over average but not at a size that looks weird. But _fucking shit_ , Alex’s hands are _small_. Smaller than his own and from the feel of it, both of Alex’s could probably fit comfortably around him.

George has spent enough days suppressing the urge to do something, anything, new – because it would only end in disappointment when whatever attempt he’s making doesn’t bring relief and an unsatisfied feeling would then linger inside him for hours – and he’s not sad and desperate enough to _buy_ anything to help satisfy the strange urge. His previously-assumed unrequited feelings for Alex (he’s guessing they’re not so unrequited now, considering what’s happening) stopped him from finding strangers to hook up with too so he can feel something other than his own hand for once. But Jesus, he can basically already feel everything the other man’s hands could do to him, especially when it’s actually the real thing right now.

He’s almost too afraid to look down, where Alex’s hand is timidly curled around his dick and his unoccupied fingers are tracing the flushed head. His fear is worsened slightly by the feeling of eyes on him, even if Alex’s are glued downwards and the others are in the next room, far from seeing anything. But George looks down and tenses for an entirely different reason when Alex exhales lightly and his loose fingers form a circular grip just above his other hand. It’s like Alex read his mind and filed through his throwaway fantasies, and it looks and feels better than George had ever imagined.

“You’re so big,” Alex says and it’s like those cheesy porno lines, but it makes his cock twitch and a groan escape him regardless. It’s said quietly and airily, a heat underlining it as Alex shuffles closer on his knees and his fingers squeeze lightly. “Fuck, George, how’re you this big? There’s, like, so much of you just- You’re just so _big_ , mate.”

It’s an exaggeration, but it still makes George try and push his cock into the fists to gain some sort of friction to make up for the distant, teasing sensations tingling underneath his skin. Alex giggles quietly, breathy and nervous, and pokes his tongue out a little. “Didn’t realise y’ liked me this much, George.” He teases and emphasises his words with a steady pump of his hands around his cock.

“Shut up, its been obvious f’ months.” George holds onto one of Alex’s wrists, just to ground him a little. He feels like he could float away any second. “Why else would Will make my dare to have _you_ wank me off?” He gasps and leans his head back against the door.

Alex giggles again and twists his hands on the next stroke upwards. “Guess you’re onto somethin’ there.” He says and pauses while he buries his face in George’s throat. “I think ‘bout you, d’you know?”

“What d’you mean?” George asks and gasps again when Alex takes one hand off his cock to keep a more stable rhythm of strokes. “Y’mean like-?”

“Jerk off thinkin’ off you,” Alex hums and nips at his pulse. “Like when I accidentally walked in on you in the shower – that stuck with me for _weeks_ , George.” 

He remembers that; forgetting to lock the bathroom door and hearing Alex stumble over words when he’d opened it had left them both embarrassed for days after. Just hearing those words makes him fuck into Alex’s hand again. Imagining Alex, desperate and a hand on his cock after walking in on George with whispers of his name under his breath makes him feel like he’s burning up under his skin.

“What about this time?” George asks and bares his neck when he feels a hint of teeth and tongue target the line of his throat. “Are you gonna think about this?”

Alex laughs into his neck and bites down harshly; George’s hips rock upwards on a stroke downward and his grip around the wrist tightens. “I won’t even be able to _sleep_ , George, I’ll be thinkin’ of this that much.”

Alex straddles his thigh, an unoccupied hand digging into George’s hip as he shuffles to move his weight to his knees, then rocks his hips down with an airy exhale. “Sometimes I can’t even finish editing videos when I’m s’pposed ‘cause I just-“ He quietly moans with another push of his hips into George’s thigh and kisses the corner of George’s mouth. “You distract me so much ‘nd I always end up thinkin’ of you and what you could do t’ me and-“ Alex cuts himself off with another soft noise and kisses George again, licking into his mouth and pushing his thumb into the leaking slit on the head of his cock.

George groans into his mouth and shoves a hand down Alex’s sweatpants, his other gripping his waist and digging fingers into his skin. “Alex,” He gasps, “Jesus, Alex, ‘m gonna cum.” He huffs against the other’s lips. George honestly feels like if Alex spoke anymore, he’d have been a goner by now, not that there would’ve been much time between if then and now if he did continue.

“Want you to,” Alex groans and pushes his hips into George’s hand. “Want you t’ cum, George, _please_.” He pleads. The pitched tone goes straight to his cock, something warm settling in his stomach and George is pretty sure he’s going to die and go to heaven afterwards.

“ _Fuck_ , Alex, oh _fuck_ -“ George gasps and his breath catches in his throat; he tries to keep his hand stroking Alex’s cock but he can’t tell what sensations are where anymore, or if Alex is kissing him or if that’s just what he wants him to do.

He realises, after he blinks away to blinding haziness left behind after his orgasm, that Alex did kiss him and is whimpering curses into his mouth while his hips stutter against George’s palm. A wetness spills over his hand and kissing him is all George can do to encourage Alex to give in to the overwhelming burn that washes over him with a shudder.

Alex does pull back from lazily kissing George eventually, a smile gracing his bruised mouth and fingers tracing under George’s eyes. “Your eyes are all soft,” He murmurs, “Gone all gooey ‘nd doe-eyed.” Alex laughs and presses one more soft kiss to his mouth.

“Fuck off,” George huffs and pushes at Alex’s chest. He feels sticky and like he could fall limp any second. “Just came, has nothin’ to do with you.” He rolls his eyes, but they both know he’s fooling no one.

Alex hums and grabs some tissue to wipe at his hand. “Sure, sure.” He passes George some tissue as well, then tries to clean the mess in his boxers. 

It’s silent for a few seconds, and George is worried it’s awkward, like it’s all fucked up and he’s going to have to move out or beg Will to let him borrow his sofa, since it’s his fault anyway. But then Alex stands on shaky legs to wash his hands and grins at him. 

“You’ve got me all weak in th’knees, George.” He jokes and George can’t help but laugh too – Alex looks so warm and soft around the edges, it’s too tempting not to stand too and kiss him again.

They try to make themselves look as presentable as they can, fixing each other up, but George doesn’t think anybody would take notice if their hair is slightly ruffled or their clothes aren’t as neat as before. Will probably told them all what his dare was seconds after he left the room. God knows what they’re doing now, and George prays that none of them broken anything.

Alex grasps at his hand when he opens the bathroom door and George can’t stop the grin from climbing onto his face. 

Will cackles when somebody wolf-whistles at them, talking some incomprehensible bullshit about how he’s Cupid and should start a dating game show for the whipped, pining people of Britain with unconfessed feelings. Apart from a few teasing remarks and shouts about their intertwined hands and how they’re sitting closer than they usually would, it all seems fine with everybody.

Somebody makes a joke about how they better not wake anybody up later with their loud shagging, and George takes delight in feeling the heat of Alex’s cheeks against his neck and mirrors his smile too.


End file.
